When the boy-child was a preschooler, we used to go to kindy gym. It was a great way for the kids to use up some energy, improve their co-ordination and motor skills and of course, have fun.
One day the teacher asked the kids to make a star with their bodies. A dozen or so 3-4 year olds dutifully stood stock still, arms and legs outstretched. The boy-child on the other hand, began to leap about, waving his arms like a demented windmill.
“Um, and what sort of star are you” asked the teacher kindly?
“A ROCK STAR” came the gleeful reply.
There’s always one, isn’t there?
This post was written as part of a countdown to my son’s 16th birthday. Here’s what has gone before:
“A rock star”